Month: November 2017

Eye of the Beholder
They said that she was beautiful,
In a certain light.
So by day, she hoarded candles,
And lit a few each night,
Or stood beneath a street lamp,
Half in, half out of sight.
She knew it was unlikely,
Yet still, she hoped he might
Be among the passers-by
when the moment was just right.
Then by shadow play, or molten wax
She'd feast on him that night.